


"I think I love you. Wow that sounds so cliche..."

by mixedwithintellect



Category: Don't Let Me Go - Harry Styles (Song), Kiwi - Harry Styles (Song), Medicine - Harry Styles (Song), One Direction (Band), Sweet Creature - Harry Styles (Song)
Genre: AU, F/M, Prompt Fic, Spy Harry, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:38:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixedwithintellect/pseuds/mixedwithintellect
Summary: the one where Harry's a regular but there's nothing regular about him





	"I think I love you. Wow that sounds so cliche..."

He was pacing against the parameter of the grocery store, each foot stepping precisely in front of the other. His basket swayed in his hand, the other holding up his phone to his ear. He was chattering at a quick speed, speaking with a load of government and legal jargon Y/N couldn’t make sense of. He had been inside for forty-five minutes, yet only had a 5-pound bag of brown rice in his basket. 

It wasn’t entirely atypical for him to do this. Harry would come into the grocery mart at least once a week, browsing the shelves and picking up odds and ends. Y/N had nothing else to do during her late night shifts but watch out of the corner of her eyes, how he would walk past the produce at least thirty times before ducking into the section fully, grabbing a bunch of bananas, and heading over to the register. It seemed the most probable that he was attracted to the quiet of the store for his phone calls, how the music playing was kept low, but at a hum loud enough to constitute as background noise. 

The mart was usually dead around 10 pm, when Harry would come in, and he would roam around the various shelves, chattering away on the phone as he perused the goods. After roughly fifty minutes was up (yes, it had been going on long enough for her to start timing it mentally), he’d end the call abruptly, put his basket down by the register, and make half-assed small talk. 

“Do you have any coupons today?” Y/N began the usual first thread of conversation, which was followed by Harry’s usual shake of the head, a smirk toying around his lips.

“We have one for rice this week.” She reached down below the register to get up the coupon booklet, an inch thick with all the ads for the month. While she rifled through the pages, looking for the one that would save Harry 30% off, he chuckled.

“Always got those savings for me, don’t yeh?” he asked, and she shrugged, mumbling something about good customer service and feeling like she had seen a rice coupon earlier anyway. 

He sighed, leaning up against the register, his bottom lip between two of his fingers as he waited.

“ **I think I love yeh** ,” he confessed, and while Y/N started, he shook his head, laughing at the scrunch of her eyebrows and the purse of her lips. “I know,  **sounds cliche** , but it’s true. Dunno where I’d be without all the discounts.”

“You’d be paying an average of 30% more.” was all Y/N could think to say, because it was true, and her mind had blanked out except for facts.

It was too late to be dealing with attractive men in suits, buying brown rice and confessing a love that stemmed from coupons.

Harry hummed at that, settling back on his heels. Y/N eventually found the proper coupon (on the third page like she had  _thought_ it had been from the start) and she tossed the book back under the register.

“Hear about the bank robbery last night?” Y/N had to run the rice bag over the scanner several times before it finally dinged and rang up correctly. It was a stupid machine, always breaking and had ‘things’ she needed to do to get it to work properly. But her boss never admitted the need for a new one, so she would continue her shifts kicking, nudging, and banging against the register as needed. 

It took a bit for her to realize Harry hadn’t answered, and she looked up from the rice.

He was staring at her, his credit card extended out between two of his fingers. His mouth was open, seemingly from shock.

“The bank robbery.” His voice was flat, void of any emotion or light-heartedness it had adopted just a moment ago.

“Yeah, news wouldn’t even say what was stolen. Apparently it was something expensive…” she trailed off, looking at him warily.

That seemed to snap him out of whatever reverie he had been in, and a polite smile graced his lips once more.

“Oh. Yes. Heard about it, sounds like they’re gonna catch the guys, though,” he replied, the cadence of his voice once more leaping towards casual conversation. She took the card out from between his fingers, sliding it along the register.

“Didn’t happen far from here, as a matter of fact. Makes walking home scarier.” Her eyes danced along the products against the wall as she waited for the damn register to finish the transaction.

It  _had_  been difficult as of late, to work late night shifts and slip along the alleyways, her pepper spray clutched in the palm of her hand as she flinched at every noise. Not that she hadn’t been careful before, but the added suspense of rising criminal activity had heightened her nerves.

“Police said it didn’t seem like the robbers stayed in town, nothin’ to worry about,” Harry brushed it off, his eyes separated in the rest of his casual manner as they stared directly at Y/N. He spoke genuinely, a bit softer, and she found herself believing him.

“Most likely group of robbers jumping around cities, shouldn’t be hard to catch them if they mess up again.”

“Mess up again?” Y/N repeated. She hadn’t heard anything about that on the news.

Harry froze, his lips parting wordlessly. She noticed then, how dark his undereye bags were, like pressed violet petals against his skin. 

Before time could cinch around him, pressuring a response, his phone rang. A saving grace to him, surely, for his entire posture seemed to relax at the sudden noise.

Harry reached over to get his grocery bag, the plastic crinkling loudly in his fingers as the register slowly gutted out a receipt. Y/N snatched it and quickly handed it over to the man, who was tucking his phone between his shoulder and ear. He flashed a smile and a nod at her for the receipt, taking it gratefully and sliding it into the plastic bag.

He didn’t leave right away, however, standing there and listening to whoever was on the other end of the line. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he made noises of agreement, and Y/N stood primly by her register, watching him mostly because there was nothing else to see.

With hurried motions, after sparing a glance at Y/N and seeing she was looking right back, Harry pulled out his wallet again and removed a thin, white card. Shifting his bag further up to his elbow so he could lower the phone briefly, he spoke to Y/N.

“Call this number ‘f anything weird happens, ‘kay?” he asked, and Y/N blinked in response, slowly raising a hand to take the card.

“Something…weird?” she repeated, and Harry mumbled quickly into the phone, before lowering it fully.

“I’m gonna be out of town, dunno when I’ll be back. But if weird shit starts happenin’ here…anything that catches your eye, or feels wrong, call the number and report it immediately. It’s life or death.” His words were shooting out fast now, his eyes alight with something she couldn’t quite place, and just as quickly as she nodded in response, he put the phone back up to his ear, and walked away from the register.

As the door swung shut and she was once more alone in the store, Y/N looked down at the card, shifting it back and forth against the light until a faint font was visible above the number scrawled in pen.

_Help anyone running. Race your signs til you leave everyone safe.  
Do not lose this card._


End file.
